Just About Perfect
by Emmeline Bondurant
Summary: In which he is mistaken as a woman.


Draco sat on the back patio of Grimmauld Place, groaning as he reached under his skirts to adjust the sheer stockings he wore. They itched and kept slipping down his legs. It annoyed him something severe. Music blared out of the open doors leading into the house as he continued to sip at his drink. It was Potter's third annual Halloween bash and of course, he had been invited out of what he still believed was pity.

Potter could deny it all he wanted, saying that all of their class was invited, but Draco knew that anyone other than the Savior wouldn't have even discussed the possibility of inviting any of the Slytherin alumni. Their part in the war, while forced, was still fresh on everyone's minds after all. Draco rolled his eyes at the thought, "Fucking Potter."

His left stocking slipped down to his knee again and he grumbled in annoyance, having half the mind to just rip them off. The brief thought of wondering if Potter would be mad if he burned them on the patio flashed through his head and it was enough for him to just pull it up again. He took his drink from the table and downed it before standing - trying not to crill his ankle in the heels that graced his feet.

They weren't nearly as uncomfortable as women said the shoes were, though Draco wasn't quite sure that he'd feel the same by the end of the night. With a not quite steady first step he made his way into the house, intent on grabbing another drink from the table and escaping back to the patio.

In his worry of facing any of the people in his old class sober, he had shown up to the party an hour late; plenty of time for the rowdy group he remembered to be raving drunk. He would have not even bothered attending, but Blaise had insisted that they go together if for nothing else than the free booze. Draco snorted, they sure as hell wouldn't have gone to be polite.

He was just filling his glass with the whiskey punch when he heard a low whistle nearby. Glancing up in curiosity he found heated blue eyes watching him. Raising an eyebrow at the slightly taller man, who Draco noticed wore an Auror's uniform, he cocked his hip. "Can I help you with something?" He asked, meaning for the words to be as sarcastic as they sounded.

A smirk crossed the mans face as he stepped closer, "Nothing that I'm sure you couldn't handle." It wasn't hard to pick up on the seductive tone and Draco sighed - just perfect. The man ran a hand through his mussed up red hair as he introduced himself, "I'm Charlie Weasley, dragon keeper extraordinaire." Draco nearly smacked himself at not noticing the red hair before - the man was obviously too drunk to realize who he was hitting on. Frowning heavily, he wondered why the thought bothered him so much.

"I'm not really your type." He said simply, trying to end the advances without too much damage. Though it wasn't like the Weasley would remember it in the morning. Then, suddenly, his space was completely invaded as two thick arms wrapped around his waist. His frown deepened as he attempted to push Charlie away, "Seriously, I'm not your type."

The confused look he received in turn to his words shocked his system. Obviously more sober than he had originally thought Charlie took a step back, "You're a beautiful woman at a party and looked like she could use some fun." Draco snorted as a smirk crossed his face, he stood corrected - the Weasley was absolutely shitfaced.

"Draco! There you are, I'm ready to go man...the booze has run out." Blaise walked up to him with a disheartened expression. From the corner of his eye Draco could see the Weasley go pale, obviously recognizing his name. Draco simply nodded and told Blaise that he'd meet him at the fireplace.

Turning to Charlie, who looked like he was ready to apologize, Draco smirked, "No worries. What kind of guy looks so pretty in a dress that someone wouldn't know the difference? It's my problem for thinking myself masculine enough not to be mistaken."

Before he could walk away to the fireplace Charlie sighed, "Maybe the kind of guy who would forgive my idiocy and would join me for dinner tomorrow?"

Draco tried not keep the confused expression off of his features, trying to decide if the Weasley really did recognize who he was. "Do you know who I am?"

It was Charlie's turn to seem confused as he looked at Draco as if he had grown a second head. He nodded firmly, "Draco Malfoy." At the correct answer, Draco stared at the taller man good and hard. He didn't understand what the Weasley thought he was doing, "I'm pretty sure Ronniekins over exaggerated, a lot. Cause you're speaking to me civily. And you're hot."

Draco couldn't help the amused snort that escaped him and he sighed. There were another few long moments before Draco finally made a decision, "If you're anything like your brother this won't work..." Charlie began to grin as he connected the dots, "Harry has my floo." Unprepared for the peck on the cheek from the Weasley, Draco shoved him away with a weak protest. He pointed glaringly at the grinning man, "Don't make me regret this." He stomped away, trying to hide his smile.

Charlie simply waved goodbye with an, "I would never." The familiar thick sarcasm made him grin.

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Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!


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